Letters
by Sophia Banks
Summary: Dear Isabelle Long, I'm afraid there has been a mistake in regards to the letter you attempted to send to a one "Michael Daniels". As it turns out, the letter was sent to my address by mistake, and passed on to me because my name is somewhat similar to "Mike". Thankfully I had the mind not to throw your letter away, and read it instead. (Teenaged OCxMycroft)
1. Chapter 1

**Recommended but not required that you read my other fic "A Long way to Holmes"**

 **The letters are short now, but will hopefully grow in length the further in I go.**

* * *

Dear Michael,

How are you? I am fine.

I hope you don't mind that I'm writing you first, I grew somewhat tired of waiting. If you decided not to go through with the pen-pal thing, feel free to throw away this letter.

I have a few starting questions for you that weren't on the sign up sheet.

What is your favorite color?

Do you play an instrument/sing?

What is your favorite food?

And what is your favorite mythical creature?

I have a few others, but I should probably save them for the next letter (if there is going to be one).

Feel free to ask anything about me!

Sincerely, Isabelle Long

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

I'm afraid there has been a mistake in regards to the letter you attempted to send to a one "Michael Daniels". As it turns out, the letter was sent to my address by mistake, and passed on to me because my name is somewhat similar to "Mike".

Thankfully I had the mind not to throw your letter away, and read it instead.

In regards to your questions, I found them quite amusing to answer in my head, and found myself writing them out for you to have a good laugh about if it pleases you.

-My favorite color is Emerald green.

-I play the piano, having the misfortune of being otherwise tone deaf when it comes to my singing.  
-My favorite food is chocolate cheese-cake.

-And lastly my favorite mythical creature is the Dragon.

I recommend going back and reading this letter with the visual of a sixteen year old stranger smiling cheesily at you, and do not take offence that I imposed myself upon you.

Please feel free to throw this reply away, and go on with your pen-pal Michael.

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

Thank you for sending the letter back, I mailed it to the right address this time...I hope! I was in a hurry and got a few of the numbers the wrong way around.

I found your letter very amusing (if not a bit hard to read, you have very fancy handwriting!)

I didn't laugh at your answers, they seem perfectly normal to me!

I'm a little bit tone deaf too, but luckily I have two siblings that tell me when I'm sounding like a sick mule so I don't sing around the flat.

I'm fourteen (turning fifteen in two weeks!) and was sort of glad my letter went to someone around my age. It makes it less embarrassing to know that some adult didn't read my silly letter.

I love the piano! Though I don't play it, I don't know how to play any instruments.  
Cheesecake is my favorite type of cake, though I've never tried "chocolate cheesecake".  
I also love dragons, my favorite is probably the Griffon. They're so cool looking!

I hope you don't mind I wrote you back, feel free to throw this letter into the fireplace (if you have one).

Sincerely, Isabelle Long


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Isabelle Long,

I was rather surprised to find your letter in the mailbox this morning.

I do indeed own a fireplace, though your letter was not thrown into it I'm sure much to your disappointment.

You really must try Chocolate Cheesecake, it is by far the best thing I've ever consumed. Just be sure it isn't plain store bought (or at least, not packed into a plastic container in a giant refrigerator), because that is hardly the same.

I don't know how long this correspondence is going to continue, so allow me to wish upon you a happy birthday, and a frankly alarming mountain of presents. (commence with cheesy smile picturing)

If you don't mind, I feel obliged to ask you a few questions, do not feel at all pressured to answer them-or this letter. In fact, I have no doubt this piece of parchment shall be thrust into the wastebasket upon sight and proximity.

What is your favorite color? (So much for originality)

Do you have any pets?  
And how many siblings do you have?

There was a some trouble coming up with good "letter questions" that would not seem too personal to ask of you. My family is quite confused as to why I grilled them for good ideas.

On that note, my mother now thinks I have a girlfriend, thank you very much for that.

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

I hope you don't mind that I keep replying. I didn't throw this letter away as soon as I saw it.

I also wasn't disappointed that you wrote me back! Michael got my letter I think, but he hasn't written back and its been weeks.

I asked my mum about Chocolate Cheesecake when I visited her at the hospital, and she agreed that it was quite delicious. Unfortunately I don't go to any restaurants (or wherever you got yours from) that often so my only choice is store-bought. I'll let you know how it goes.

Thank you by the way, I didn't get a mountain of presents like you said but your well wishes made me smile.

In answer to your questions:

1- My favorite color is blue, especially opal blue! (I am also fond of gem colors)

2- I don't have any pets, mostly because my sisters are allergic to cat hair and I'm afraid of dogs. We once had a fish (named Herby) when I was five, but he died pretty quickly.

3- I have two sisters (twins) they're both five years older than me-their names are Maria and Gloria.

What do you do for fun?

Do you have any pets?

Do you have any siblings?

I'm sorry your mother thinks you have a girlfriend now, I can stop writing to you if you want! Go ahead and bury this letter in your back yard and never think about me again!

Sincerely, Isabelle Long

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

I lost my shovel, so I'm afraid I had no choice but to respond to your most recent letter.

How ghastly of Michael, it was his decision to get a pen-pal in the first place I hardly think it fair that he not write you back.

I'm sorry to hear/read that your mother is in the hospital, I do hope it isn't some sort of terminal illness, rather ,the removal of an appendix or something else harmless.

If that is your only option than I recommend you take it, though it is hardly a requirement that you try my favorite food.

-For fun I play chess, read, and sit beneath the lone tree in our back yard-though I have mild hay-fever which keeps me from doing the latter too often.

-We own no pets, and I don't want one. I've never been an animal person I'm afraid.

-I have one brother separated by seven years-myself being the elder of the two. Sherlock. William Sherlock-Scott Holmes to be more exact.

What is your favorite book?

Do you have any hobbies?

You stated in an earlier letter that your favorite "cake" was cheesecake, but what is your favorite food in general?

It's alright, it just means I have to fend off her frequent questions about you (or rather, the picture she has made of you in her head) and write back to you later in the day. To be quite frank with you, I am hoping to also avoid the attention of my brother. I am quite certain he would find my correspondence with you quite ridiculous. I'm not entirely sure you do not, so if you find it thus, feel obliged to fold this letter into a paper airplane and send it flying.

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes


	3. Chapter 3

**Please excuse the format of this, I'm using the more annoying of the word programs for this fic.**

 **For those of you with Microsoft Word, Mycroft is writing in "Edwardian Script" and Isabelle in "Comic Sans MS" ;)**

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

I hope you find your shovel soon, because I've written another one!

I don't blame Michael for not writing me back, it's a fluke that you decided to in the first place... Anyways, I don't mind because I find you far more interesting (read: weird).

I don't know if I want to talk about my mum. Just know that she isn't in for a burst appendix and leave it at that ok?

I did tell her about you, and she thought you sounded very pretentious but very kind for writing me back.

I finally got to try the cheesecake, and it was great! I'm not sure I like it more than any other cheesecake, but I have stupid taste buds (haha).

You do a lot of boring things for fun! I'm only kidding of course, but I thought maybe you might play a sport? Or going by your handwriting, ride horses across the lawn of your mansion? (Kidding again!)

That's ok, I'm not too big on pets anyways. At least, not big ones. I thought I might get a mouse or a gerbil when I move out someday.

Wow! Your brother has a long name. Is yours as amazing as his? I mean, besides Mycroft which I find quite unique.

1- I don't read much, I'm kind of a clot. But my favorite book has to be Howl's moving Castle! It's so different and likeable!

2- I don't really have any hobbies, I sometimes draw (but I'm bad at it). I'm terrible at sports, I'm all limbs.

3- My favorite food has to be Spaghetti. My favorite restaurant makes the best spaghetti ever and I order it every time we go there!

I laughed out loud at the last part of your letter. Again, I'm sorry I put those pictures in her head-I didn't mean to!

Maria and Gloria think I'm writing to Michael, and I'm ok with that. I'm sure they'd tell me to stop bothering you, and that you're writing back because you feel like you have to out of politeness.

You aren't just writing me back out of politeness are you?

I don't know how to make paper airplanes, but you obviously do so why don't you try it with this letter?

Sincerely, Isabelle Long

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

Still haven't located the shovel, I'm slightly concerned that my brother has taken it to bury a body.  
Hardly a fluke, nothing I do could ever be considered a fluke.

Again I send well wishes towards your family, I shan't inquire further if it makes you uncomfortable.

I'm disappointed that you do not share my adoration of Chocolate Cheesecake, but will not let it ruin our friendship. I shall just have to overlook this gaping flaw.

In regards to both sport and equine I despise both and find the mere suggestion ludicrous. If you ever were to meet me, you would find I enjoy more sedate pursuits such as (as previously mentioned) reading.

I have never read it, being more into non-fiction. But I might try the book you suggested despite your earlier jump in judgment towards my favorite food. On another note, you are hardly a clot. I find you remarkably adequate in grammar and punctuation, and have not noticed anything particularly "clot-ish" about you.

My grandmother is an artist, a fact you probably didn't need to know. At any rate it is nice to know you share my ineptitude when it comes to sports. I find them slightly ridiculous to watch, why would I want to join in?

Glad you find being bombarded by questions about your appearance, age, and location amusing. Perhaps I should have her write to you instead, it would make things easier. On that note I hope you don't find it too uncomfortable for me to ask about your appearance but, I have trouble picturing you in my head. You needn't tell me in great detail (or at all), it's merely a suggestion. If I offend, feel free to turn this letter into a pile of confetti and throw it at a parade.

Do I seem like the sort of person that would write a string of letters inquiring about their favorite food to a complete stranger- out of politeness? Don't answer that. Of course I do not. Tell your siblings should they ever discover you writing to me, that I read my first novel when I was six years old, and find you entirely enjoyable to write to. I hope that serves you well.

You neglected to ask me any questions in your most recent letter, so I've decided to continue anyways.

Favorite Holiday? (I am scraping the bottom of the barrel I realize)

What is your favorite drink?

What food do you truly hate?

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! X)**

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

Is burying bodies something your brother does often? Because if it is, I would be just a little bit worried.

Your well wishes are noted, thank you.

Don't be offended by that! My family has always been blunt, and besides she called you kind too.

Gaping flaw huh? I think I'm going to be insulted by that, no thought needed.

You hate horses? Or you hate riding? Or both? I love horses, I always wanted to ride one, they're so tall and majestic you know?

I kind of figured you weren't a marathon running type of person just from the few letters you've sent me. I hope that doesn't offend you, it's just the first impression I made of you.

It really is a great book! And I am so a clot. Well, I guess the definition of a clot is something blocking your bloodstream, which I guess would keep blood from getting to your brain and that would make you stupid...until you die.

Having just written that, I realize how insane I sound, but I'm sticking with it because this is my last notebook page until I go to the store on Friday.

I'd love to see your grandmother's art, maybe I could look her up? Or is she more of a art for fun kind of person?

We could come together and sit in the stands, reading novels and every so often shouting angrily at the people playing for being too loud. That's the kind of people we are. haha

You can tell her to write me, but she'd probably end up seriously disappointed.  
I will admit it is a bit creepy for you to ask what I look like, but you gave me the option to be vague so I'll take it as random curiousness.

I'm tall, thin, freckled, and otherwise ugly. I do have some nice hair I suppose, but otherwise -bleck. If this description upsets your image of me, feel free to take this letter and turn it into mulch.

How about you? (It's only fair)

1- Christmas! I'm sure that's a cliché, but on Christmas we all gather around the tree and just...talk (and open presents). It's wonderful.

2- Two weird ones I guess, Orange juice and Hot Chocolate.

3- Boiled Spinach. I like spinach ok, but when you cook it, it goes all squishy and it tastes bland.

Did you really read your first novel when you were six? Oh god, I'm writing letters my hatred of boiled spinach with a genius!

Ok, same questions back at you! (I'll spend the time waiting for you next letter, thinking of more questions to ask!)

Sincerely, Isabelle Long

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

Not human bodies no, but I did find him burying the remains of his most recent experiment in the woods not too far from our property (that poor cat).  
I'm always worried, hardly matters if he's an axe murderer or a kitten tamer (the most harmless occupation -that I doubt even exists- I could think of).  
If at any time I proved to not by worrying about him anymore, I would find myself worried about why I wasn't worrying.

Both, I've always had a troubled relationship with horses (imagine if you will, a wry grin accompanying that sentence ) You call them tall and majestic, I call them giant, clumsy, and unpredictable.

If I was to be offended by anything, it would not be that. Though I could resent the stereotype you seem to have given rich people.

Amazing, I didn't know you could ramble in a letter like that. The clot thing makes some sense, despite the round about way you came to that conclusion. But as previously stated, you are not a clot. Hardly a genius, but hardly an idiot either.

Grandmother keeps to herself regarding her art, but if you are really interested I might send you a small painting of hers. I doubt she would mind, or notice.

If we were to ever meet in person (which I highly doubt) I would be willing to accompany you to some game or another to just that. May I recommend we also wear incredibly expensive clothing and every so often utter things such as "quite" and "this book is positively splendiferous My Dear" to truly make the players and other people in the bleachers despise us.

I imagine she would, though that's nothing against you.

Me? I am pale, tall, dark haired, long nosed, and ruggedly handsome.  
I couldn't get through writing this without laughing. I am everything but the latter.  
I don't need mulch I'm afraid. Do you require materials for some form of paper mache sculpture?- if so this is your letter.

-I don't have a favorite Holiday really, I suppose it would have to be Christmas because I get things out of it. Others seem more like an excuse to get the day off of work.

\- Hot chocolate resides high on my list, alongside chocolate milk (incredibly childish I will admit) and simply-water.

-I too am a hater of Boiled Spinach. Tomatoes also make the list.

I started the novel when I was five, and didn't finish it until I was six. Yes.

I look forward to them.

Do you have a career you are working towards?

Your truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

WHAT? What did he do to the cat?! No, never mind I don't want to know.

He sounds delightful, like looking after a snake with spider legs. Only joking, I'm sure he's great, but he's also your brother.

I'm the youngest (I told you a few letters back about that) so I've never had to worry about watching a younger sibling. It sounds stressful!

Wry grin noted. I guess that's how I feel about dogs, everyone loves them but I hate them! They're all sharp teeth and beady eyes. And they drool. And they smell bad. And they bite, but I guess that goes along with sharp teeth. I'm ok with practically every other animal it's just dogs that creep me out.

I didn't mean to stereotype! (Are you really rich? Wow)

I can ramble in letters, real life, somehow in song... At least over a letter I don't stutter.

Um, thanks? Not stupid but not a genius is a compliment right? I'll take it even if it isn't (haha)

If it's ok with her, than I definitely want you to send me one!

Oh my goodness that sounds wonderful! I'll only agree to this if you wear a monocle, top hat, and carry an old black umbrella! I myself will wear a feathery hat and insist you wipe off the bleacher before I sit on it.

Now we just need to pick the novels X)

Is your mother very judgmental? I mean, I'm not all that fun to be around (or write to I suppose) but still, I'm hardly mean or weird.

You sound perfectly handsome! In fact, I'm pretty sure tall, pale, dark haired, and long nosed are what make up my dream guy. Don't worry, I won't track you down and try to date you (that would be interesting wouldn't it?) it's a vague description anyways so you probably forgot to mention you have sixteen toes or you're actually a vampire.

I'm afraid I have no paper mache projects, though if you decide to fold yourself a paper hat out of this letter I won't judge.

No favorite holiday? Are you crazy?! Some of them seem like it, but then again, it all depends on the person/family. Your family could celebrate those holidays for what they're meant to be celebrated for. (I'm feeling very wise today)

You don't like Tomatoes? Weird.

I have no idea career wise, I wanted to be an artist when I was younger then a.. well, I stopped thinking about it. I'll probably end up in some grocery store or a waitress in a restaurant.

Do you have a dream girl-or guy? (feel free to ignore this one)

What career do you want?

Do you watch much TV? If so, what's your favorite TV show?

I think I'm going to cry, I was reading Dr. Seuss when I was five!

Sincerely, Isabelle Long


	5. Chapter 5

**Please excuse some typos if you find any, I do zero editing! Lol**

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

A snake with spider legs. Aptly put.

A strong distaste for dogs isn't entirely unprecedented. Though most dogs bite because people don't know how to properly train them, and the dogs ends up with some mixed up view of what is right and wrong and exactly what they can get away with. And then of course they end up put down because of this. And now I'm sure our correspondence is to come to an end for defending an animal I hardly even like, I encourage you now to take this letter and use the back of it as a grocery list.

We are not particularly rich, merely... well off. We have many things we worry about (such as my little brother) but money tends not to be one of them.

I've never minded a good ramble, as long as the topic is one I don't find horrifically boring. Which is how most rambles go actually. People tend to talk endlessly about the most plebian of subjects, not interested in the least whether you actually care, and then these same people decide they'd rather do something else whenever you bring up Theoretical Physics.  
If you want to take "Not stupid but not a genius" as a compliment, you are perfectly welcome to- I'm hardly going to stop you.

As you requested the picture has been sent (quite obviously, as this letter is also inside the package) I think of it as one of her best paintings due to its well structured simplicity. I previously found myself staring at it for long stretches of time with no real desire to stop. You of course may keep this - it is hardly worth the cost of stamps just to return something I stopped staring at years ago.

I have the umbrella covered, and I do believe I bought a top-hat some time ago-don't bother asking, I will never reveal why. Perhaps I knew a moment like this would soon arise. At any rate, as desirable as this little excursion sounds I still feel no strong desire to go to any form of sporting event-especially with someone I have never met in person- no offence intended.

My mother is hardly judgmental, I'm afraid that last comment was a jab at her general desire to rule out anything interesting in my life. Foolish, considering she will never read that letter.

Of course I do, because I was vague. You sound perfectly lovely yourself (despite the "otherwise ugly" comment) because you stated short simple facts about yourself. I'm afraid I don't have sixteen toes, though come to think of it...I haven't stopped to count since I was three so maybe that has changed. At least I can say with certainty that I am not a vampire.

Again you make a valid enough point, that doesn't mean that the Holiday isn't largely used for days to be taken off of work anyways but I concede to your argument easily enough.

You like tomatoes? Odd.

Really? I had taken you for someone less...

I'll just leave that sentence there, I'm unsure quite how to finish it. The point is, you would benefit from having a plan that you know you can follow. You shouldn't feel defeated so early, you're only fifteen.

-Thus far I don't seem to have one. I have formed a few relationships, but I never focused upon their appearance. If I were to have a type it would include: at least intelligent enough to form a decent conversation, isn't judgmental, enjoys sitting around and just talking/knows when to stop and listen etc. etc. General kindness is always appreciated I suppose.

Reading back, I find this to be very sappy, and dislike that quite a bit. But I am nothing if not honest (sometimes) so I shall leave it in.

-Something Governmental, something that will properly utilize my incredible intelligence. (I've been putting research into it, but have yet to choose an exact position)

\- I don't watch too much television besides documentaries and the occasional episode of Doctor Who (the science is sometimes cringe-worthy).

Most people do, Dr. Seuss is probably one of the best things you could read (even though most of the words are made up). I was partial to Fox in Socks myself even though I was beyond it in reading level.

Situational question:

If you could bring only three things (excluding food as there is an exuberant amount of coconuts) onto a deserted island what would you bring?

Dare I ask, what is your type- personality wise? I find this question slightly uncomfortable to ask, but I find it only fair that you have to answer this question too (maniacal laugh).

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

((Opposite side of paper))

Groceries:

-Eggs

-Milk

-Chocolate Cheesecake

-Singular banana

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

Why thank you, I put a lot of thought into it (Imagine the sarcastic voice if you will)

Your comments on dogs kind of makes me feel guilty about hating them, but I can't help it! And I do know there are a lot of sweet dogs (still with sharp teeth and beady eyes...) I just can't be around them for any length of time. To tell the truth, the last time I came across one I climbed a tree and wouldn't come down for almost half an hour! Luckily neither of my sisters were there or they would have laughed their butts off.

Ok, so you're only mildly rich then. Haha

My dad used to ramble a lot (he's dead if you haven't noticed by now) I was young, but I remember my mum pinching him on the arm every time he went off on some weird subject that no one in the family liked to listen to. I probably picked it up from him.

I know what you mean, people always think that you are incredibly interested in what they have to say and then when you try to talk about something you're interested in and they look so...bored. I dunno, maybe I'm doing something wrong. I certainly haven't started a conversation on Theoretical Physics!

Thanks, I try to take as many compliments as I can and run!

Wow, your grandmother is just... wow! I love this picture, I'm going to hang it on my wall if I can find a nail and some string. I know what you mean, it's just a hummingbird flying, but the way she captured it it's like a colorful photograph!

No, it's ok, I wouldn't want to go either I guess. Now though I'm going to be stuck wondering just why you felt the need to buy a top hat.

What does she do, stop you from reading all the time? Does she disapprove of your excursions to the tree outside? Ok, it sounds like I'm joking but I'm not. I just wonder what she does to take away anything interesting.

Believe me, I'm not lovely! (hence the comment about being ugly surprisingly enough) I guess you're right, I hope I didn't insult you by calling you handsome (imagine a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic voice please).

I'm seriously glad you're not a vampire, but even if you are I think I'm safe as long as we never meet!

Your list is kind of sweet- not sappy! It's nice to know that there's someone out there that will like you for your personality rather than your looks. I kind of need that, but I have a pretty bad personality too.

You sound like you'd be good in government! I have to love how modest you are by the way, only using "incredible" as a description for you intelligence. Haha

Doctor Who is pretty great. I haven't paid too much attention to the science-y bit of it. I guess we don't watch too much TV here either, my mum's hospital bills kind of rule out paying for it. Not to spill some sort of sob story in your lap- I still don't want to talk about it!

Good, something about you that's normal. We got Fox in Socks from the Library and I tried every day to read the tongue twister about the beetles in bottles or whatever, but never could do it without screwing up.

Ooh, I've always wanted to be asked this!

1- I would take, Howl's Moving Castle, My diary, and a collection of Studio Ghibli movies! (I hope this deserted island has a tv and dvd player...hm...)

2- Wow, sending it right back at me huh? You're very vengeful. Ok, in appearance I'm not too picky, like I said: tall, long nose, thin, dark haired etc. But that's best scenario.

Personality wise, I want him (because I'm only into guys) to be smart (I'm going to need someone to figure out taxes, I'm mathematically challenged haha) someone that enjoys physical interaction like kissing, hugging, etc. Someone respectful, someone that enjoys quiet moments, and who supports me. And definitely someone who will let me cry on their shoulder when things go wrong.  
I guess that's everyone's dream, I'm far too typical. I've put more thought into this though than what career I want, I guess that makes me a hopeless romantic or something but... I want a job I can enjoy too!- There was no need to be so flippant about not having put too much thought into that by the way, I've been doing other things.

Do you have any moments that were just... wonderful? Like one day where everything went right?

And the opposite: What was the worst day of your life?

Feel free to shoot those questions back at me, I thought of a few earlier today. If not, go ahead and use this letter to wrap someone's birthday present.

Sincerely, Isabelle Long


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own BBC Sherlock, or more importantly the character of Mycroft Holmes. If I did, it would be terrible! lol**

 **Sorry about typos, I try I really do!**

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

I must apologize for the lateness of this letter, I'm afraid that life has rather gotten in the way of doing anything beyond studying.

I am unsure if your feelings towards dogs are more put down to fear rather than hate. If it is pure hate, I don't necessarily disagree that they're bothersome and a childish thing to grow attached to. But I can also see the appeal. Unconditional love, or what appears to be love from a furry creature with doe eyes (most don't see them as beady). My brother has fallen for one himself, despite his apparent distaste for friendship with human beings.

Mildly rich , er... yes. We'll go with that shall we?

I'm certain I sound like a broken record, but I am sorry for your loss. I understand how pointless sentiment such as this could get under another person's skin so please disregard this if you'd like.

Both my parents have a tendency to ramble on, my father especially about things such as trains and the back garden. My mother sometimes discusses things of interest such as her previous line of work (mathematician) , though rarely with me if she can help it.

Theoretical Physics was of course more of an example if anything. It has never really been within my field of interest. (Of course, were it something I was interested in, I would be brilliant.) It is possible you're doing something wrong, more than likely it is the fickleness of whomever you're speaking to.

As do I. Or to be more realistic, I take as many compliments as I can and walk leisurely away.

I shall thank you on my grandmother's behalf. It pleases me to know that you appreciate the picture as much as I do. I used to watch her paint such boring things, like beach settings (I shudder to remember) or people (she was truly terrible at faces, no matter how hard she tried to improve) so when she painted this I was transfixed and utterly surprised to find her to be such an excellent artist.

I do hope I haven't disappointed you, I am very much a hermit in most regards even in hypothetical scenarios I cannot bring myself to do anything social... Wonder on the top hat all you like, I shall never tell!

My petulancy towards my upbringing is leaking into my letters to you I must apologize. It isn't as though she's trying to stop me from reading, nor going outside (I am frighteningly pale and she wouldn't dare stop me from soaking in some sun) rather her endeavors as of late to make "friends" are grating on my nerves. Doing such things takes away from my day. I would much rather sit in the large chair in our living room going over my studies, learning about foreign politics and such. The most aggravating factor is that she hadn't cared a year previous or at the very least hadn't been " _worried"_ about it.

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder does it not?

Alright I concede to being hypocritical in that regard, but were you to see me you might rethink being so obstinate in your reply. I'm far from hideous and I have not sustained any sort of physical scarring so I have the sense to consider myself lucky (I would if I believed in luck of course). But I dare to say that there is a factor in my appearance at the moment that might turn people off.

It depends on what vampire I am, I could turn into a bat and find you asleep in your bed (your address is on the envelope, making it oh so easy mwa-ha-ha) and I suck your blood and make you my own kind. Simple. I have to question though just why a vampire might do that, I would think they would want there to be less of their own kind , leaving more victims for them.

My list is sappy no matter what you say, and also lacking in detail. I'm afraid romantic entanglement has never been my forte (not to presume that it is yours either). I will admit that I might prefer someone physically attractive but the point of a marriage or any relationship is to find someone you enjoy being around (or so I've been told, there is evidence to the contrary) and whether they look good or not should not factor into that equation.

Your personality is hardly unlikable, I myself think you interesting and different (I do hope you don't find different an insulting adjective).

I'm only speaking the truth. If this bothers you, take this letter and use it to clean up a spill.

I'm hardly an avid TV watcher, not when there are books.

On that note, it took me two days to properly read Fox in Socks aloud without a mistake. A slip of the tongue is something I wish to avoid in future. Try this, "A lemon liniment on aluminum linoleum".

-Fair enough.

-Ah, I see we differ in types. Shame, we might have made a wonderful couple. (Sarcasm obviously). I do agree to some degree though, respect and intellect are important.

Apologies, I was not in the best of moods when I wrote that last letter. I hope I hadn't offended you. I only wish for you to be ready for a good career. Most don't come to you, you most go to them and for that you must have a plan.

-A wonderful moment? I admit that I had to think hard about that one (not to speak ill of my generally pleasured life).

I should say it was three years ago, my parents took Sherlock and I on an outing to the museum. There was a bothersome amount of walking back and forth, but I was given the chance to show my brother all that I knew. We also went out to dinner afterwards and had the glorious cheesecake for dessert. I'm afraid I couldn't put a specific moment from that day above any other.

\- The worst moment of my life thus far was the day I nearly drowned. I won't go into specifics, but the feeling was... indescribable. I never wish to feel such terror and helplessness ever again. I couldn't think properly, like a dense fog had come over me, my mind keeping all rational thought at bay. I was dragged out of the water and resuscitated (obviously I didn't die, or else a ghost is writing to you) but I fear it has left a mark on my usually reasonable mind.

Of course I won't deprive you of asking just what your best and worst moments were.

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

Oh don't worry about it! If you are too busy to write again I won't be upset. I was a little frightened that you'd gotten tired of writing to me, but that's just me being me haha.

I guess the fear caused the hate. Or maybe being bitten did. Either way, I also understand why people like them I just... *shudder* I just don't.

I wonder if unconditional love really exists sometimes, even in animals. Dogs probably expect food and a good scratch behind the ear for the effort. People make it hard to tell sometimes. But then I talk to my mum and I feel better about it, she's like that.

Haha, ok good. And you can call us dirt poor.

Don't worry about that either! Coming from you it means something unlike that random stranger who pretends to care about my problems. Ug. And like I said I barely knew him so I'm not too burdened by it as much as I'm sure I would have loved him.

I would love to meet your parents, they sound great! Ok, maybe you don't think so. Your mother's a mathematician? WOW! Is your whole family comprised of geniuses?

Yeah I sort of guessed. You did say politics was more your thing rather than physics or uh...science? (Clears throat and walks away as though I've said something brilliant instead of stupid)

Thanks for the honesty. I guess I'm being hard on myself, but I feel like I don't have anything interesting to add to a conversation much less a long winded ramble.

Do you do anything without looking or sounding absolutely smug? (Joking, joking! sort of)

She's very welcome, it's gorgeous! I don't know if you mean to do this, but all those little moments you bring up about your life make me smile so much. It makes you feel more real you know? Less like a posh caricature. Now that I brought it up I hope you won't suddenly stop! And I hope you won't be offended by me calling you a posh caricature. (I seriously considered tearing up this letter and trying again, but I couldn't do it without feeling stupid and fake so there you go.)

I'm kind of the same. The idea of going to a big sporting event and attracting all that attention... scary!

I'll guess. Costume party? You saw it in a shop and thought "Now that's me!" ?

Are you saying you don't have a single friend? I can't believe that! And what's wrong with friends anyways? They're great! Friends are people that you can talk to over the phone for hours and not get bored of, and they're people you can tell secrets to and trust that they won't tell. I understand why you'd be exasperated with people telling you to make them though. That's not how friendship works, it's spontaneous! Not that I'm an expert. I don't really have a "best friend", just people that hang around me and I listen to them talk. But it still feels good.

Shutting yourself away from the world won't help you in politics will it? I thought that included people skills! Why don't you try just spending time with a few people (groups tend to keep attention off of just you) like once a week? Again, I'm not an expert so you shouldn't just blindly take my advice! I just don't want you to be alone your whole life, because that's something that scares me.

The beholder is a jerk.

But seriously though, it's ok. We're the same in that respect, it would take a lot to convince us that we're anything more than ugly. I guess that's unhealthy. Reading teenager magazines that tell you that you need to see yourself as beautiful and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. But I just can't do it. Maybe I'll grow out of being a scarecrow with a huge forehead and maybe you'll grow out of "whatever" you think is wrong with your appearance right now. But maybe not too. *shrug* I'm not an optimist apparently.

...You've been thinking a lot about this vampire thing haven't you? I always sort of assumed that making another vampire was either an accident that happens when they don't finish their victim off. OR, they're trying to make them into vampire slaves that will do their bidding? I dunno, vampires are weird.

It isn't sappy and you can't convince me otherwise so there! Like I said, I'm a romantic at heart. I like the terrible movies about true love and finding your "soulmate". Not that I think they're realistic.

Exactly! I'm not perfect that way, I might turn away from a guy because he's not good looking but I try not to be that. Personality and um... But anyways, I totally agree and that's what's important! (I try really hard not to be a hypocrite)

Ugh, you're so humble it's insane! Sorry, I didn't spill anything. But if you want to you could take this letter and make a paper snowflake since winter's coming 'round!

(Just a note, thank you for not mentioning my mum. and the bills. You might not think I noticed, but I did. Just saying thanks, no need to say anything else about this!)

Tried your tongue twister, man that's hard! My sister Gloria was totally confused as to why I kept saying "lemon" under my breath haha!

I guess your not big on being touched? I guess it goes with your reclusive-ness (I may or may not have had to look up that word) and all that. I'm big on touch me, I like hugging and kissing and all that jazz!

No, no it's ok! I know what you mean, and I should think hard about that but I just... I don't know what I could possibly do! Don't worry about it though, as soon as my mum's better (yes, bringing her up again *sigh*) I'll work really hard at finding my dream job ok? (I smiled really big here, just thought you should know)

That sounds so sweet! I was hoping you might be more specific about the moments but I understand that this stuff is kind of personal. Ah, the cheesecake again. If we ever meet you are getting me some!

Oh, that sounds terrible! I'm so sorry that happened to you! You had to be resuscitated?! Freaking out and worrying about you on your behalf, even though you probably like "eight" when it happened.

I guess its like me getting bitten by the dog, it changes you just a little bit without you realizing. It's annoying and you wish things could go back to the way they were, but they just...won't.

1- My favorite moment? Oh, I have a lot! One of them was finding your letter in the mailbox this morning. But to pick just one big one:

I used to live in the suburbs, with this HUGE park in walking distance. On my birthday (I was eight or nine I forget hm) my mum took me and my sisters to it and we played on the monkeybars and swung on the swings, and Maria and Gloria didn't say anything wrong about me! My mum brought a huge cake and we ate it on the ground with plastic forks! And then I got a poster for my favorite movie (Kiki's Delivery Service!) and my sister's got me a pretty golden hair clip! It was wonderful, and I wish we could have that back. Oh and the next day a kid I had a crush on wished me happy birthday, I kind of forgot about him but it made me so happy at the time!

2- My worst was when I discovered my mum was sick. I know you saw this coming. But at the same time she told us we had to move! I just felt so alone. I did feel better later, but it was horrible. I was scared for her, and us, and I wasn't sure what London was going to be like!

It's ok now though I guess, things are getting better *shrug*.

Ok, what could I ask you now?...

What's your worst habit? Feel free to ask a family member about that one haha!

What was your best birthday present?

Would you rather be probed by aliens OR made to live with them? (A toughy!)

Sincerely, Isabelle Long

* * *

 **I think in this world both "Sullen" and "Morose" never happened, so don't worry about the whole "Wouldn't she friggin' remember this dude?!" factor.  
** **I think I'm going to write about ten chapters for this, unless I run out of ideas and then I might have them meet. ;)**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews thus far! It was suggested that I date these, but I'm terrible at that sort of thing. I don't even date my drawings. Some stupid aversion to it which isn't really excusable but I hope won't turn you away from this story! 8(**


	7. Chapter 7

**Again I apologize for the format. I should really move the file over to the other computer but this is the most convenient at the moment.**

* * *

Dear Isabelle Long,

Thank you for your understanding. I don't think I'll be overly busy any time soon so I can respond more promptly.

You never mentioned being bitten, or if you had I so conveniently forgot it. It puts your fear more into perspective and makes it (slightly) more rational.

I'm not entirely sure that unconditional love exists either if I am to be honest. I believe that my parents dole it out easily and without hope of anything in return, but at the same time don't they expect the same of me? Perhaps I am thinking to hard for someone that finds "love" in all its majesty to be a ridiculous word and hardly worth anything.

Dirt poor it is Miss Long, though perhaps we should refrain from bringing up money again. I find it often a sore subject with people.

I'm glad to find that my opinion matters to you, yours does- to some extent- to me as well. One cannot help but despise the bystander that offers comfort when they know nothing of substance about your situation. They have nothing but good intentions and I can accept that some might know what they're doing -but still I can't help but resent it.

I don't dislike my parents exactly. At any rate, no. My father is dreadfully "normal" compared to the rest of us (he has his quirks of course, what Holmes doesn't) and I have met a few cousins that I am certain were dropped on their heads as infants.

I am eternally interested in the inner workings of our country's government and the people behind it all. My brother is more into the sciences, I originally assumed he might become a scientist actually but he so often surprises me.

If you ever feel inadequate about your conversational skills why don't you practice doing it? And coming up with topics is a simple one, if you properly observe the common masses. See, you are not the only one able to dole out advice.

It's not smugness if what I'm saying is true, you know this. ;)  
You're...welcome, I suppose. Now that you brought it up I'm afraid I've become paranoid. I shall try my best not to think too hard about what I'm writing now, I hadn't needed to before. To tell the truth it feels rather freeing to be able to talk about these things with another human being. I certainly couldn't discuss this with a family member!  
I am far from a caricature just the same as you are though I understand what you mean. Either of us could easily be considered some poorly written fictional character by the other.  
Social events are by far up on my list of annoyances, right bellow people that believe themselves smarter than me.

A costume party? Do you know me at all? That's it, I demand you take this letter, roll it, and smoke it like a cigar so that you will have no need to write me back!

No. I don't.  
I will admit that there are merits to having friends. A confidante as you said or someone to speak to when there is no one else. But you must realize that friendship is overrated! Besides the fact that I don't really need a confidante or anyone to talk to, there is the fact that people can never truly be trusted. Growing attached to things and people only leads to heartbreak. Assuming of course I could have my heart broken - which I couldn't.

I too am angry at the beholder.

How very human of us. The thing most magazines don't seem to take into account is that you cannot just look at yourself in the mirror after years of hatred and suddenly think "Oh, how did I miss this? I'm actually beautiful and the most special butterfly ever!" . It doesn't work quite like that. I admit it the healthy option to at least try, and I recommend it. But there is little hope for my finding myself anything beyond what I have before... I am not an optimist either it seems. All well, I shall go under the name "realist".  
Vampires are interesting to me. Their entire lives circle around getting blood. I sometimes think that books have it wrong. What if Vampires are more animalistic, unable to form any sort of relationship because their minds are stuck upon just the one subject: Blood. Your theories are probably true, I still think it's stupid.

Alright, fine. It isn't sappy. Happy? Oh dear, I can't believe I have been corresponding with a *shudder* romantic! (I kid) I don't believe I've ever seen a movie catering towards the romantic at heart, perhaps I should if only to laugh at it.  
That's very good of you to at least strive towards being a better person. And not letting another's appearance get in the way of liking another person. (The world is full of hypocrisy, so thank you.)

I am aren't I (sly grin and narrowed e yes). I'm afraid I'm not all that fond of paper snowflakes, so I was forced to write back.

I amuse my family with "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers" and the like. I'm quite good at it.

No, I'm not a physical sort of person. I can shake hands, I can hug, but I hate it. It feels...odd. Like they leave a mark on my skin and I have to rub it off. I hope this doesn't mean I'm crazy. I have a feeling I might get over this if I met someone I truly cared for (which I won't), but until then I shall be deftly avoiding any well meaning embraces.

Perfectly alright. You have a lot on your plate right now and I won't bother you any more until the crisis has been averted, fair enough?

The cheesecake is in every one of my favorite moments... Not really, though it does seem to turn out like that often enough. I'm sorry I couldn't be more specific for you, but you should be glad that I told you that story at all considering what I'm like in person. - I shall hold you to that offer shall I?

Oh dear, I hope I didn't upset you too much. It was a harrowing experience, my lungs burned horribly for days after the incident and I had some trouble getting to sleep at night. I am far better now I promise!

Exactly. Oh the human mind is a bothersome thing.

\- That sounds quite lovely. May I ask, are your siblings always attacking your character?

-Ah, yes I'm afraid I did see that coming. But it is a worthy worst day if were both given this information and told that you had to leave the place you felt most safe. I would have been incredibly irate if it were me.

\- My worst habit hm? I did in fact insist Sherlock for this one though I didn't tell him why. He wrote me a list that filled three sheets front and back. Ah family. Here are a few of the highlights:

1- Always sticking his giant nose into my business.

2- Organizing EVERYTHING, including my room.  
3- Sitting around all day and generally being a lazy arse.

4- Acting as though he knows the queen personally.

5- Never shutting up.

6- Complaining about everything, always and forever!

I'm not sure if some of these constitute as habits, but I have put them up anyways if only to show you just how "eloquent" my brother is.

-The best birthday present I ever received would have to be an old umbrella from my father. He only gave it to me because I complained about walking to school in the rain, but it was one I always admired. Perhaps you think me odd, but it meant something.

\- I should say... probed. I would much prefer to stay on earth. Unless of course they are probing me to get information so they can blow up the earth or what have you. If that is true then I would go with them to save humanity.

Hm. Alright, what are some of your habits than?  
Would you rather be "super" strong or incredibly intelligent?

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Mycroft Holmes,

Oh, that's good! I was hoping you weren't planning on leaving me to my own devices. Haha

I don't think I did. Glad to hear my phobia meets with your approval *rolls eyes*. But seriously, it could be worse you know? Like, I could be afraid of tall buildings or something.

You think love is ridiculous? What are you, a machine? Unconditional love is tough to figure out, but maybe that's what I have with my sisters or my mum. Isn't there anyone you l love unconditionally even if they drive you crazy?

Good idea, I hate talking about money.

To some extent hm? Ok, maybe I don't listen to what you write all the time either. I know! I feel like people either ignore you completely or try too hard to help and end up making things worse! Why can't there be an in between?

I never met them so I guess I don't have any right to say that you should like them, but you should! ... So it's just you, your mum, and Sherlock? I feel sorry for your dad (especially since you called him "dreadfully" normal)!

I've never been overly interested in politics or government, I'm kind of simple that way. I'll vote for a good Prime Minister but that's about as far as it goes. You're brother sounds fascinating (the ordeal with the cat tells me he's into disection or... ok, still not thinking about it!) annoying, but fascinating.

I'll try that. I don't know, maybe writing to you is helping me too.

But you can't say that because you're the one being smug! I do know this Mycroft, you're cheating! X)

Oh no, sorry! I don't want you to be uncomfortable talking about your family or your life, so if you don't want to than don't. I just enjoy hearing about it a lot! I know what you mean. I could never talk about crushes or my dream job or whatever with my sisters. I have a feeling they would just laugh at me if I brought up either of those things.

Exactly. Sometimes you don't feel...real. But you have to be or else I'm dreaming for a reeaally long time. Haha!

Why do I get the feeling you actually have a written list of annoyances that you keep in your back pocket? (Or in the lining of your top hat) You know there is bound to be someone smarter than you right? You're not the only smart person in the world, though I guess it must feel that way. I don't mean to chastise you like you're a child! But again, I can't just throw this away. Bleh.

Ok, ok, so I was wrong! Although that gives me an idea for a question...

I don't smoke! Sorry.

Wow. Did someone hurt you? Or abandon you? Because all of this reads as... as bitter! People need people, as much as we hate it. I mean, if you're socially anxious than you get a dog or write a letter to someone. What about me? Do you think I'd betray you if we met?! (If I seem angry...I am. So don't worry about getting it wrong)

It is a very human thing to find ourselves inadequate (Again I had to look up how to spell that, now I feel even more inadequate haha) You sound like you've thought about this a lot too. I agree, it's never that easy.

Haha, there's a difference between a realist and pessimist you know!

I never thought about that. What if Vampires are too different from humans that they can't even really survive in society? We should write a book together. You uh, you write the first chapter!

I am very happy, thank you. I should have told you earlier! *Hides face in shame* I'm a terrible romantic. I like the fancy dinner with the candlelit restaurant or what have you (actually I like picnics just as much, weird). Oh I think you would definitely find the movies I watch hilariously terrible. I would join you but I'd be too busy crying my eyes out. Haha

Excuse me while I roll my eyes forever!

She saw sea shells down by the sea shore...

I don't think you're crazy, but the idea of not liking touch is so foreign to me! You're weird. How about that? (If that bothers you why don't you fold this letter into a propeller hat and fly away with it?) I think if you found someone you loved you would be okay with them touching you, who knows. Or maybe you need to practice with that to? I don't think there's anything serious about it, you don't do much more than shake hands in life when you don't have any friends. (Sorry, I'm still sore about that one)

Fair enough. Thanks!

I am happy that you're being so open with me. You're an interesting person. I won't push for any more information. We keep saying that we "might" meet, is that an actual thing? Or are we just joking? I mean, I can't even drive yet and you live... not in London, so I guess there's little chance of it.

I'm ok, I just hate to think of you suffering like that. If that happened to me I'd probably dissolve into tears every five minutes and I'd never go near water again! I'm glad to hear that you're doing better.

Maria and Gloria only tell me what I need to hear. Sure sometimes they take it a bit too far, but really, it's not that bad. Don't worry about me! Sometimes my mum would reprimand them for talking to me like that, but that's just because she doesn't like hearing ill of anyone.

Thank you (again), I wasn't angry or anything just... scared. Sad. All of it. Of course I settled in nicely and things are going much better for me. Getting a pen-pal was part of my plan to make London better, and it worked you know!

Like I said, your brother sounds like a real charmer. Wow! I'm sure all of what he just wrote is true XD

Maybe I did think of that as odd, but if it means something to you than I don't anymore! It's amazing what we grow attached to and what we find significance in. An old umbrella is hardly the weirdest thing you could have told me anyhow.

Probed hm? Wow. I'm sure you would come through if the earth was in danger, this is a hard one...

1- My habits? Hm. Apparently I have a propensity to ramble (Of course I do) and I get in peoples way. I bite my bottom lip a lot when I'm nervous or thinking. And uh, I guess I avoid eye contact a lot? I don't know, I'm not overly organized or overly messy. I guess you could call me "average".

2- I think I'd like to be really smart rather than really strong. I would have little use for super strength unless I wanted to be a hero and I know I'd be a terrible hero! Plus, I could use my intelligence to solve a lot of the world's problems!

If you were to dress up for halloween, what would you dress up as?

Would you rather eat a bucket of cooked spinach or walk around the world? (Mwahaha!)

What would you say is your best quality? (And if you say intelligence I will come over there and hurt you, think of something else!)

Sincerely, Isabelle Long

* * *

 **Not all the opinions expressed in this are mine. They are that of the characters! So I'm not trying to insult anyone. So there. The thing Mycroft has with touch is basically what it's like for me. Bleh.**

 **(Also, check out my new fic...thing. "The Universe is Rarely so Lazy". It's a bit like this one, just for fun)**


	8. Chapter 8

Dear Isabelle Long,

I would never leave you to your own devices. Think of me as a life preserver.

I didn't say I approved of your phobia I said I could understand it. There's a difference! Ah, Bataphobia (I confess to having to look it up in my "Big Book of Phobias" and even then there are many sub-phobias to go along with it) both of us are very lucky in that regard.

Maybe I should reiterate my statement. Love is "pointless". What is ridiculous is what love seems to do to people. I hate going out to our park in the spring because that's when all the couples go out for their walks. Thinking on it, love is less pointless as it furthers the lifespan of the human race- so be its original purpose.

I believe that there is a difference between love and what I give to my family. Mostly because I more tolerate them (and I suppose I should say that they tolerate me). I have a duty to watch over my brother and a duty to be a good son so that I am properly raised and then a duty to get a career, a house, etc. and make something of my self or else my parents time was dreadfully wasted upon me. Love doesn't seem to come into the equation.

You Miss Long are very good at reading between the lines in what I say. It's probably best that we not put too much stake into the other's advice, I'll be the first to admit that neither of us have had the complete life experience just yet (This is where you snort and roll your eyes).

One thing I've noticed about people is that there is no in between. Either it is an over reaction or an under and this usually causes problems.

As you said, you have little right to tell me to like people you've never met. Still, I shall take it into consideration for your sake. I went out of my way to thank my mother for a meal she made, does that please you?

That tends to be the view of the general populous, which is probably for the best. Might I recommend that you send me another letter when you're old enough to vote? I would gladly send you my advice (if you want it).

My brother is... ... ... different. And coming from me I'm sure that must mean he's an alien or something. The differences between us sometimes feel too big for me to cross over, and then he makes a deduction or says something actually intelligent and it feels like so much less so and we feel much like family again (and now I have gone off on a tangent about my brother, thank you ever so much)

I hope it is helping you (writing me, that is) you're helping me.

I don't cheat. I merely bend the rules in my favor. And because I say so, there is a difference.

Don't worry about it Isabelle. I enjoy it. And your reactions to these sorts of things help me to feel better about my own (envision here some nervous laughter). You yourself have provided a few anecdotes about your life and family (though they are mostly depressing considering your mother in the hospital, your bothersome siblings and your deceased father) as well.

What an odd slightly stupid dream that would be. Mind you I once dreamt that a squirrel of giant size was chasing me, threatening to chew of my fingers. Don't you dare repeat this to anyone!

People, Sherlock, When my mother puts onions in the meatloaf. Dare I go on? Yes, I wrote down my annoyances. It's very therapeutic.

I am aware that I'm not the smartest person in the world (even though, yes, it does feel like it) I would greatly appreciate it if all the smart people were to come to my house and talk to me because little else for me to do. I'm sure you don't mean to chastise me like that but you surely have and I shall endeavor greatly not to be annoyed.

Do I sound bitter? That's because I am. The harsh truth of reality is that people are unreliable. Nothing happened to me really, except I was introduced to society and all its stupidity later than most.

I don't actually need friends, I'm writing to you out of...interest. I think that things would be different were we to actually meet. I don't believe that you could "betray" me... exactly, but you have your own life and things you must do and that cold lead you to "abandon" me or perhaps you might die and I would have wasted my time. I am genuinely sorry I upset you, all of this doesn't have to apply to you if you don't want it to just be prepared for people to disappoint (I likely just did with this argument).

Of course I find myself otherwise to be perfection so... less human than you. (Perhaps perfection is stretching it a little...a lot.)

Is there a difference between realism and pessimism? I suppose pessimism might be a person expecting their roof to fall over their heads while a realist might expect just a few shingles to fall. Hm, I shall have to put more thought into this. The world is so cruel sometimes the line blurs.

There is no way I am writing a book about Vampires I don't care how much you pay me! Truth be told I've never been interested in writing. How odd I must seem to you.

Good. I feel very blindsided, yet again I recommend you set this letter a flame so that you don't reply, except this time I demand you carry it around like a torch and light the way for lost pedestrians in the dark.  
I find the idea of a candlelit dinner to be a soothing prospect (far more than a picnic *shudder*) but I could probably pull off having one of those by myself.  
I'll provide the popcorn and the tissues.

And I have one eyebrow raised in disbelief for the rest of my life.

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Fair enough, I've always been considered weird. I think it's for the better that you enjoy touch, people have a tendency to come up behind and clap you on the shoulder or someone might come up from behind and hug you. It benefits everyone if you don't jump out of your skin and start twitching when they do that. I understand that you're sore about this, but there's little you can do to change my mind. Shaking hands will be a priority certainly for when I become... whatever it is I shall become when I start working my way through Government.

You're welcome.

If it really makes you happy I shall try to remain open about these things as long as you -as I'm sure you know- don't pry too far into my personal life (what little a personal life I have).

I'm not sure if you would actually want to meet me and vice versa. The idea sounds nice "in theory" but the likeliness of it actually working out is remarkably slim. I recommend we remain as "pen-pals" for the time being.

I hardly threw myself into violent hysterics, yes. Again, your concern is appreciated. If it helps in the slightest I haven't had any similar experiences since.

Oh come now, if you are allowed to worry about me then I am allowed to worry about you. One must find the line between regular sibling taunts and real insults that might actually damage one's psyche.

Completely understandable. And I am pleased to have made your experience more pleasurable.

And now you've insulted me Miss Long. Alright so perhaps these are true to a limited extent. My brother exaggerates. He can be both an odious annoyance to everyone around him and a charming young boy when he wants to get something out of you. Much like me- though I'm far from odious.

-Why thank you. I must say the umbrella adds a bit to my image. I should really go around the village someday wearing my best clothing, my top hat, and my umbrella and confuse people into thinking we've traveled back to the Victorian era. Mind you it has gotten a bit ragged since I received it I'm rather afraid I might break it on a windy day.

-You? Ramble? No! Alright so perhaps I only say that because you brought it up in earlier letters. Good to know you don't pick your teeth constantly or make popping noises with your mouth because if you did I would be forced to kill you (and if you can't tell that I'm joking by now I recommend you halt our correspondence immediately)

-Ah, a good choice. If I weren't already far beyond the common masses...and I shall just stop myself right there. I too would choose high intelligence rather than super strength. I would have no use for it.

-James Bond of course.

-Does this mean I would have the ability to walk on water? Nevertheless I would choose the spinach. I am not much of traveler and I would fare even worse if I had to walk the whole way!

-My best quality you say? I am perfectly organized.

Per usual I shall ask the same question: What is your best quality?

To follow a cliché: If you met a genie that offered you three wishes what would you wish for?  
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Mycroft,

I think that's kind of what you are at the moment. There are so many things that are pulling me under the water right now I could use a life preserver.

Ok, ok, so I misunderstood so sue me. X) A big book of phobias? I kind of want one. At any rate Bataphobia sounds more like a fear of bats rather than tall buildings. I think we kind of forget to be grateful sometimes about these things. I'm poor but I also have a roof over my head, I'm afraid of dogs but I'm not afraid of tall buildings... Yeah, those two things totally fit together. I'm great at analogies, can't you tell? Haha

Love isn't pointless! I can't believe I'm arguing with you because I'm really terrible at arguments but here goes:

Love is what binds us all together. There's stages and sub-divisions not just "romantic" love and puppy love (which I can understand might get on your nerves) but a love between friends (like you and me maybe?) and a love between family members and pets and the one plant in the corner named Agaustus. It's probably true that the main point of it all is so that we don't die off but... I don't know. I think you're missing something fundamental here.

Your view of the world is very different from mine I must say haha. You don't have to tolerate them though do you, and they don't have to tolerate you. But they do because (repeat after me) they love you and you love them! (And now I sound like a bad children's TV program!) I'm not sure it's healthy to think of it as a duty to do all of these things. Is that all you get out of your family? A sense of duty? I told my mum about this (I hope you don't mind!) and she said that you are "a very smart boy" but that you need to get your priorities straight because no one can be happy thinking everything they do is out of duty to someone else. I kind of agree, but then again I never disagree with her...ever.  
(Reading back, I'm not sure if I come off as stupid or really wise in this section...can it be both?)

It helps when you put it in parentheses. (Snorts and rolls eyes) That's a good point we are still teenagers but that doesn't mean we don't have well thought out opinions and advice (Uh, then again I'm probably not the best person to give advice actually). I'll try to be more sparing if it helps, so I don't confuse you with whatever I come up with. I think it helps that both of us are so different so that we can look at these things from both directions and still be friends (yes, we're friends. I've decided whether you like it or not!) My mum calls people like that "Puzzle Pieces" which I think is adorable. We're Puzzle Piece Pen Pals (say that ten times fast!)

Ohmygosh yes! I think that's a very human thing too. To overreact to everything hahh!

I am happy actually yeah. That was very nice of you! Did she seem confused as to why you were so suddenly nice? X)

Oh I will! If you give me advice about this I'll certainly take it because you seem the most likely to know what you're talking about when it comes to politics! I figure if I am going to vote on stuff, I should probably know what I'm doing (bleh).

You're welcome. That was a very sweet thing you just wrote. I sometimes feel like there's a giant chasm between me and my sisters (who are so close with each other!) and then sometimes I'll say something that makes one of them laugh (Gloria doesn't laugh much, at least she hasn't lately but Maria's ok) and then we'll be laughing together and... and then it'll go away again. I'm sure you and your brother will work things out and you'll spend time together even when you're adults! (Like I said, I'm an optimist!)

Oh it is, I promise! If anything you've certainly helped me to think about things I never would have considered.

Bending the rules hm? Since when has that ever been another way of saying that you're cheating? All well I guess my protests mean nothing since you're clearly in charge of the rules here.

So I'm some way of justifying your reactions to things that happen in your life?! Cool. The same back at-ya.

Yeah I guess I have been kind of depressing with stories about my family. It doesn't feel as bad as I'm living it but when you write it down on paper my situation does seem kind of pathetic... Ok, how about something happy then? I'll stick it on the end for you! Ok?

It would be wouldn't it! That is hilarious, I'm afraid I laughed too hard at the image that conjured up. Why was the squirrel of unusual size going for your fingers?! I once had a dream that I was flying and I was so happy...until I realized that everyone bellow could see up my skirt! Don't ask me why I was wearing a skirt, or what that means because I couldn't tell you.

...I quite like onions in meat loaf. I wrote down a few of my annoyances in my diary, you're right it does feel kind of good- it feels even better to read over them later when I'm angry. Haha

Sorry if I insulted you there, I'm a jerk. I didn't mean it like that I just meant that maybe you should tone down talking about how different and special you are because you're smarter... I don't think I could possibly understand what it's like to talk to everyone and come out being the smartest person in the group. I'm far from that, maybe I should reign in my pen a bit?

On a side note before I reply to the next section. Have you noticed how serious our letters have gotten? I'm frightened.

What do you mean "Later than most", how much later? Don't answer if you don't want to, but I feel this need to better understand you and I just...can't right now. No of course I wouldn't betray you! And I wouldn't leave you either, especially now that you told me all of this ok? I'm not going anywhere I'll hang onto you like an annoying backpack! (Oh man and now I'm thinking of Dora the Explorer haha!)

You're writing me out of "Interest"? Be glad I'm a backpack now or else I would make this letter into a torch- such as it is I won't and I'll keep writing (Eye roll and crooked smile). That's where your pessimism comes in (not realism) you can't go through life expecting to be betrayed or else you won't get anywhere. I guess it suits the life of a Government...person. I just think you'll be having a hard time of life with that attitude. (There's the advice again, I'm terrible at this!) You didn't upset me too much so don't worry about it. I just wish you weren't bitter because bitterness kind of means that you're not happy you know?

Oh my gawsh you are so full of yourself! XD I wonder what a really "perfect" person would be like. I bet we would all be surprised.

I think there is, maybe I'm wrong. I think Gloria is a realist and I think my mum is an optomist and I think I have no idea where I'm going with this sentence humdinger foxtrot... Yeah, it's late and I need sleep but I wanted to finish writing you back!

Oh come on it'd be great!

*It was a dark and stormy night, a young man...nay, a young Vampire! stood upon the precipice with a woman at his ankles. "Oh Roberto!" she cried out to him, "Spare me!" to which Roberto replied, "Nah" and he sucked the woman dry of all her lifeblood.*. Isn't it great?! I think I should write more often Haha!

I tried but my Romantic tears made the letter too wet to light! There is only one proper way for you to dispose of this letter and to finally gain your peace, I'm afraid you'll have to eat it!

What's wrong with picnics? They're great! You get to sit on a blanket and enjoy the nice warm breeze surrounded by nature! And now I realize why you don't like it (truly amazing eye roll, a loop-de-loop).

You got it, and I'll have the movie and the sofa! We can have lit candles on the coffee table!

I have the odd feeling that you already have had just the one eyebrow raised the entire time we've been writing each other? Perhaps even when you were a baby.

"Please, sir. I don't like this trick, sir. My tongue isn't quick or slick, sir. I get all those ticks and clocks, sir, mixed up with the chicks and tocks, sir. I can't do it, Mr. Fox, sir!"

Weird it is kind sir. I like touch but I'm easily startled. So I'll be doing a lot of twitching I assure you! (blah) I'm becoming less sore about it I promise. I'm sure you'll be fine when it comes down to it, shaking hands seems like the lesser of all evils considering.

It does make me happy! I won't pry I promise, I'll just let it all flow naturally. If I ask anything feel free to shoot me down. Yeah, I guess it wouldn't work out. Still, I wish I knew what you looked like and I wish we could go out to dinner and have that cheesecake or go out and look really posh at a sporting event. It all sounds so fun! But I wouldn't want to lose this either. I think I'll survive.

I wouldn't blame you if you did go into violent hysterics is all I'm saying. Good. Good, good, good!

Why are you being reasonable right now? That's not fair. Ok you're right, feel free to worry about me all you want... only, don't maybe? Couldn't the same be said for you and your brother? Or does it come off as more friendly? I think my sisters are as good to me as I deserve and I do the same in return. We're family, we're allowed to be a little mean to each other. Thanks for understanding. Maria and Gloria (again, only what I deserve) thought I was being a big baby about it. I had to leave and spend some time alone in the park near our house, of course it started to rain! Man, that day really sucked now that I keep remembering it.

I bet they are. Like never shutting up or organizing everything? I can see that. Ok I'm being mean, but you did copy them into the letter so they must be a little true? Yet another reason I want us to meet, I want to see if you're exaggerating about your brother!

I wish we were still planning that outing because I'm sure the umbrella would totally add to the whole dapper image we were going for! Though if it's old I wouldn't want to ruin it anyways so maybe it's good we gave up on that dream heh.

Nope, no mouth popping or tooth picking. I don't chew gum either or whistle with just my nose. Even if you tried to kill me I bet you couldn't catch me. Of course I know you're joking, at this point I learn to take everything you say as sarcastic and work my way back into reality from there.

Common masses? Ok I'll let that one go.

How did I know?!  
Because you didn't ask I would dress up as Kiki from my favorite movie. All I'd need is a giant hair-bow and a short purple dress and tada I'm done! Of course I'd need to shorten my hair somehow... hm, let me rethink this.

Really? You'd choose the spinach? Disgusting slimy spinach?! I knew it. I've never been huge on travel either but I think I'd enjoy it anyways. I like to take leisurely strolls and that's totally the same thing right?

"Perfectly organized". I guess I'll accept that though I somehow think that's cheating.

1- I think my best quality is that I don't hold grudges.

2- Ooh, the three wishes question! I would ask for my mum to get better of course. For my second wish I would ask for my appearance to change, like maybe give me a bigger chest, or for me to be less angular... or maybe I could have hips. Whatever, I'm not picky (that's my selfish wish) and lastly I would wish for world...fairness. World peace seems like it couldn't happen. But for fairness where good people don't get shot and bad people end up in prison without any trouble? Yeah, I want that.

3- About as much wood as a wood chuck could, if a wood chuck could chuck wood.

My turn to ask some questions again! If you could meet one person from history, who would it be?

Would you rather spend the day in a room filled with people...or eat a bucket of spinach? (I really couldn't resist)

Sincerely, Isabelle


	9. Chapter 9

Dear Isabelle Long,

The only problem with this comparison is that I still cannot swim nor do I naturally float and thus would utterly fail as a life preserver.

That would be a frivolous lawsuit if I ever saw one.  
Chiroptophobia: a fear of bats. I think Bataphobia would be rather too obvious. Most phobia names are derived from Greek words so they lack familiarity.  
Count your blessings I suppose, one does forget to do that. I myself have a roof over my head (obviously), three meals a day (plus extras), and an extensive book collection which continues to grow- to name a few.

I was thinking of a proper reply (and don't worry, I do have at least the bare bones of one) when I realized something: You have just roped me into an in depth conversation about Love. LOVE! There is something entirely wrong with that but I can't begin to go into detail. You deserve a proper answer of course, that's the point of this (wry grin) but I cannot help but be slightly annoyed by this whole ordeal.

Love isn't pointless per say, as I said in an earlier letter it serves a purpose: to further the human race. It is a chemical, physical reaction built up mainly of these: Dopamine, Norepinephrine (Adrenaline) and Serotonin. That is entirely romantic of you to say. "Binds us together", really? I will agree that a rapport between people keeps us all moving swiftly along, and keeps most people happy. But the thing about love is that it so often blinds people to each others faults. If you allow attachment like that (or if you prefer: love) it opens people up to all of this heartbreak. Even with animals, or a plant named Augustus. The plant dies, the animal bites you, the person does both of those things. Do you see my point? Perhaps what I'm trying to say is that love (and my word I hope I never have to write that word again) just isn't for me.

Is Familial obligation that foreign to you? No, I don't mind that you spoke to your mother about this. I probably should be, but I'm not. Happiness is overrated. Alright, that was a lie. But I don't think the point of any of this is for me to be happy, it is to ensure that we all come out of this alive and relatively unscathed. Happiness can come later. I don't think that's all I get out of my family, but it's what I'm meant to put in. Out of my mother I get interesting conversation (occasionally) and constant, annoying, mothering. But we come back the point of duty where I inform you that that's all there is. I'm repeating myself. I have this odd feeling that neither of us is going to be able to convince the other of anything.

I know for a fact that I give out truly brilliant advice! (smirk) I don't know, you have been relatively light about it. The thing one must remember about advice is that one doesn't have to actually take it. So if you never wanted it, you have the ability to ignore it all. I myself am becoming quite adept at that.

Oh god no, you've given us a nickname! You're definitely stuck to me now, there is no backing out! If this frightens you, bake this letter into a loaf of banana bread and send it to a neighbor's house for later consumption. Despite the idiocy of being called a "Puzzle Piece Pen Pal" (you're right, it's adorable. Disgusting!) I agree with your mother that there are people that work exceptionally well together and we are they. (No sarcasm this time amazingly enough)

I have seen far too many people shouting, crying, or turning red in the face over something so entirely stupid, I might find it funny if it weren't so sad.

She wasn't exactly confused, though I did receive a funny look from her. Yes, she was quite pleased with the revelation that I might be grateful. Which I imagine I should feel guilty about in the long run.

That puts you above most people. I shall be waiting for your letter filled with befuddled questions Miss Long.

I wasn't exactly going for sweet, but alright. I find it a comfort to know I'm not the only one suffering with sibling problems. I do try to converse with him and on normal occasions we get on quite well. But yes, just as you described there seems to be a large chasm between us. I do hope you can find common ground with your sisters, you seem to want it quite badly.

Nice to see you've finally succumbed to the simple fact that I am now in charge and there is no point contesting it. You can be my minion if you'd like.

I couldn't help but notice Isabelle that you neglected to write a happy story at the end of your letter. Completely unfair of you I must say. All well, I won't upset myself over it. If you do care to share anything I shall be waiting.

I really have no idea why the squirrel was after me. My fingers specifically. Do you want to know the worst part about that dream? It caught me.

I put hours of deep thought into the meaning of your dream and have come to but one conclusion: obviously your dream indicates a fear of people seeing up your skirt, and a fear of flying. Brilliant is it not?

It's terrible. When you put onions in meatloaf it changes the entire flavor of it, and leaves unpleasant half-squishy bits for you to discover mid bite- I fear I must come off as very whiney in these letters (stamps foot). I don't wish to write down anything too serious for fear someone else might find it, but everyone already knows what annoys me so...

You didn't insult me exactly. I have a thicker skin than you seem to believe. I (as of late) have cut down on complimenting my own intelligence when around people outside our family. They really don't like being thought of us stupid, believe it or not. Don't. I shall endeavor not to be insulted when you write things like that, deluded as you may be (and please don't take that the wrong way) you have my best intentions in mind.

I had noticed. We really must remedy that bumzingle zorp.

On this matter I'm not entirely sure I would like to discuss so I'll exercise the right to say nothing. I will admit to this: My family moved a lot (for reasons I won't disclose) and we were either tutored or "homeschooled" which to be technical we weren't supposed to do but our education was perfectly normal and extensive. I remember seeing children my own age in passing, a few that came to parties my mother hosted-rarely. But I never interacted with them. Now I have. Now I wish I hadn't.

Betray is such a harsh word. Your assurances are quite nice but they defeat the point I am attempting to make. It doesn't matter what you say the possibility still remains. But um. Thank you. You shall be my backpack, and I your life preserver.

I'm not bitter! I'm annoyed, and rightfully wary. There is a difference. I'm happy when I write to you, is that what you wanted to hear?

I'm not full of myself, I'm confident. There's a difference there too (I can imagine yet another eye roll on your end, do stop that.) Oh I'm certain of that. We all have this picture of the perfect person, I would be greatly amused to see everyone else's reaction to the genuine article.

I assure you I can wait one more day for a letter if you're losing sleep over this! If I were to analyze my parents I would say that they're both optimists, my brother is at present the same. I believe that will change in time.

It's wonderful. If I were to change on thing it would be the name Roberto. That's not a proper vampire name! Something like Vincent, Damian, or Alan.

I nibbled on the corner of your letter, only to discover it tasted like paper and we were out of salt, so I didn't finish it.

Picnics aren't the worst thing I could imagine, but they are on my list. Damp ground, bugs, too much shade or too much sunlight, food that has to be able to travel!

Oh, do another one. How about a figure eight eye roll?

Knowing the two of us we might run the risk of burning down the house we're in during this venture. Perhaps romantic candle lighting isn't our best bet.

Oh yes, and stubby hands steepled beneath my chins as I thought deep thoughts.

"Try to say this Mr. Knox please... Through three cheese trees three free fleas flew. While these fleas flew, freezy breeze blew. Freezy breeze made these three trees freeze. Freezy trees made these trees' cheese freeze. That's what made these three free fleas sneeze." At this point I think I will take a break from tongue twisters!

Ah, I can see the trouble there. I've never been easy to startle. I have good hearing, and a strong sense of where people are judging by my surroundings-among other factors.

That is good to know. I'll try my hardest not to make you sore again, though I probably already have judging by our earlier conversation topics.

Since when has any of this "flown naturally"? (incredulous laughter). I appreciate the effort. I have no qualms about shooting down any questions you have, don't worry.

I think you'd be disappointed were any of things actually going to happen. I much prefer the safe route which is "Puzzle Piece Pen Pals" (I can't say that aloud without gagging) if this bothers you I suppose you can stop writing me and move on- but I don't think you want that either.

Violent hysterics aren't my thing I must admit. It is good. Quite good. I'm surviving quite well so please stop worrying!

Because when someone is reasonable it almost automatically shuts down the other person's argumentative side? Never underestimate reasonability. My brother and I are wildly different from you I can assure you. We do snipe and jab at each other as you said, but I've never considered myself a lesser person because of it. Whatever you say. I will still be concerned about you. It's what I'm good at.

They thought you were being a baby about being upset that your mother was ill, and that you had to move from the place you grew up? My goodness, even I wouldn't stoop so low... I think.

Alright I will admit that they are mildly true. I have a tendency to organize. A lot. I like things in order, I like feeling in control of everything. There is hardly anything wrong with a clean house. On the "never shutting up" front, I do to! (sticks out tongue childishly). Believe me, I am not exaggerating. Why can you not just go on blind faith, eh?

Oh my, it definitely would. I would be afraid of that too. I could always keep it closed and lean on it like a cane. Do you think that might add to the dapper image?

I hadn't considered nose whistling to be a thing. I shudder to imagine! I'm insulted now that you think I couldn't catch you. Of course I would send someone else after you and have you brought to me for murder. Really. Ah, a smart. And I go for the genuine angle with you, you're always so annoyingly heartfelt.

I'm seeing how far I can push you. Apparently I'm not pushing hard enough with "common masses".

I think travel might be a requirement later on, but I prefer the safety of home thank you. Although, I'm ruining any appetite I might have had picturing all that spinach...

-That is a good quality, and something I have noticed about you to some degree.

\- World fairness? That is a well thought out answer that (truth be told) I hadn't expected of you. You continue to surprise me. Of course your other two answers didn't surprise me in the least, so I guess it doesn't count.

-I considered this for some time. There are a few: Winston Churchill might be interesting. Or perhaps a composer such as Mozart or Beethoven? (I can of course, speak Austrian so no trouble there) I will need to give this more consideration.

-A room full of people without any bathrooms to hide in? Oh dear. I might stick to the spinach again! I do suppose it depends upon the people, and whether I might be able to sneak into a corner with a book without being noticed...

Who from history would you like to meet?  
Is there anything you've done in your life that you deeply regret?

Spinach, or listening to me discuss my own brilliance for hours?

Yours truly, Mycroft Holmes

* * *

Dear Isabelle,

It has been nearly six months since I wrote you and you haven't replied. I thought it was a bit uncharacteristic of you so I decided to write to you again (obviously). I imagine you must be busy rather than hurt, or perhaps the last letter was lost in the mail. Any number of things could have happened, but if you are only busy please feel free to disregard this letter. Put it in a bottle rocket and send it as far as you can.

I spoke to my mother about you, only in passing really. She was baking and I was watching (taking notes) I told her that the person I was corresponding with hadn't written back. She asked me if I was upset by this revelation- she always tries to find more than what is there. I was, but not for me. I am concerned that you might have been hurt or detained. My mother then invaded my personal space and touched my shoulder (thankfully with clean hands or else I would have needed to change). Why do you do this to me Isabelle?

I was considering our vampire tale. I think the vampire would need some ability that others haven't considered. Like echo location.

A few questions that you needn't answer:

Had you the ability to shapeshift what would you change to most often?

Do you enjoy watching plays? Have you ever seen a ballet or an opera?

Do write back.

Yours truly, Mycroft

* * *

Dear Isabelle,

It has now been more months since I sent the most recent letter. This is the last one I shall send until you write me back- if you write me back that is.

Have you changed addresses and I wasn't informed? Of course, that wouldn't stop you from writing me. I have prepared myself for the idea that you've merely grown tired of writing to me, which is entirely fine. I couldn't force you to continue this correspondence if you don't want to.

You see, your comment about being my "backpack" and not abandoning me made me believe... You convinced me that you weren't going to just stop for over a year, which was quite clever of you really. Which brings me to the point that I was right all along about being left behind and all that. You have a life, I'm hardly hurt that you haven't written, curious. Mildly concerned. But not hurt.

I will wait for a letter, but I'm beyond truly expecting a response at this point. So if you do not write me back:

Goodbye. It was pleasant discussing with you.

Your Truly, Mycroft

* * *

 **I was looking at this and thinking "Would Mycroft really be this bitter about people, this early on?" to which I replied, "Yes." I'm of the opinion that after he discovered "other children" he became** ** _super_** **bitter, and then he sort of mellowed out the further he went, retaining that feeling deep down but overshadowing it with a need to protect people. You know? You don't? Yeah, me either. I swear I'm smart! *Shakes fists***


	10. Chapter 10

**I apologize for the wait, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Right, you can either come in with me or stay out here and rot, I don't care either way."

Isabelle Long looked up from her book to Gloria's scowling face. She often scowled, always distinctly unhappy. Isabelle hastily unbuckled herself and climbed free of the passenger's seat, tucking her book safely near her feet then grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her narrow shoulders, "I'll come," she mumbled, shutting the door behind he after she'd climbed out. Immediately she was greeted by the smell of used gasoline and the chatter of passersby. Gloria rolled her eyes, "Joy," she exhaled, turning towards the enormous stone building and then walking free of the parking lot. Despite her long legs Isabelle had to rush to keep up with her sister, eyeing up the few people sitting (some standing) on the wide stone steps leading to the Museum entrance. Inside Gloria went to speak to the clerk at the front desk speaking tersely and to the point. Isabelle admired the high stone ceiling while that happened, wondering idly if she might visit the gift shop sitting quietly to the left of her (though she had no money to buy anything). Gloria finished and turned to her sibling, "Wander around, whatever." she waved a hand. Isabelle nodded, "O-ok, I'll uh... yeah," she cleared her throat. "Ug, do you _ever_ shut up Izzy? Look, just don't get lost or I'll have the police after me and I don't need that kind of aggravation," Gloria spat in reply that -were it coming from anyone else- might have been considered a joke. She gave Isabelle a shove towards one of the many wide doorways. "Sorry," was all she could do to reply before her sister purposefully marched off.

Isabelle curled her fingers tight around the straps of her backpack, her throat constricted as people walked sedately around her, their necks craned so that they might see things better. Around her the air was still, odorless, save for the perfume of some woman admiring a naked lady statue. In times of stress Isabelle could rely upon places like Museum to calm her down. The same as at the library people thought it rude and unsavory to raise their voice beyond a whisper- and they seemed more mindful of where they walked. She knew somewhere in the Museum Gloria was making her thirtieth attempt at finding a _full-time_ job, and as scary as Isabelle though her sister could be she was likely being turned down because a short freckled girl didn't strike fear into art-thieves. With a pained sigh she continued along her path, no real destination in mind, no art she really wanted to look at. Her feet hurt already and her backpack felt overly heavy making her shoulders ache. Inside she felt empty and silent which displayed quite nicely on her unsmiling face. It was far too hard to be happy. Or to even _pretend_ to be happy.

Blowing a loose chestnut hair away from one of her eyes Isabelle took in the thickly painted canvas of one painting, intending to stop just for a moment. The plan was interrupted by the sound of someone speaking (surprisingly enough) above the usual hushed whisper. "It's truly astonishing how people with no artistic talent have become revered through the ages. Time blinds people."  
Isabelle couldn't help but smile despite her soured mood, she wanted to argue the opposite (that even the simplest of paintings were worth their admiration) but the idea of going to a stranger was ludicrous and far beyond her character. "Mike," the father of the group reprimanded halfheartedly, as if he didn't quite know if the comment deserved it. The sound of shuffling feet against the wood floors met her ears and Isabelle sighed. _Not even a rebuttal_. She shifted the backpack on her shoulder, releasing one hand to shove her braid back over her shoulder from where it'd slipped. The clock in the corner told her that she'd only been there for eight minutes though it felt like ages, her sister probably wouldn't be down to take her home for half an hour yet. She followed the path of the family, not paying any attention to what they were saying until a word somehow made it past her subconscious and stopped her in her tracks.

 _Sherlock_

It had been said by the "anti-admirer", in a voice both condescending and scolding much like a parent might use on their child (more so even than his father before him). Isabelle's wide hazel eyes traveled up from the floor to find the group again. There were four of them (she knew that already) the parents appearing by all means to be a happy couple with the father's arm around his wife's shoulder as they walked. She found Sherlock immediately after. He couldn't have been older than twelve: tall, thin, pale as milk, and with a mop of handsome curly dark hair that perfectly framed his face. He stood before a statue (this one fully clothed) with his whole body tilted so that he might get a different angle at it. Isabelle couldn't hide the befuddlement she felt looking at him, sending that away in favor of the second figure who watched his brother (she assumed them to be brothers, please let them be _brothers_ ) scathing words appearing to die in his mouth when he noticed her scrutiny. She would have blushed were she not so stunned by the utter familiarity she suddenly felt looking at him properly. Pale, _tall, dark hair, long nose, ruggedly handsome_. Alright so perhaps the last one had been a joke on his part but…but if that other boy was Sherlock, and he was Mike. And Mike was Myc, and Myc was... oh God! Could it really be that _simple_? Isabelle gasped audibly, the air sticking in her lungs like honey. On pure impulse (a whim, what if she was wrong?!) she walked towards the teenager, noting randomly their height nearly matched despite the age difference.

"E-excuse me I don't mean to bother you –feel free to just ignore me- but a-are you... Are you Mycroft Holmes?" she did blush then, her face burning. She hadn't been used to talking to anyone outside of her family, especially after their move to London she'd done her best to keep to herself. The stranger frowned, a crease forming between his lowering eyebrows. Isabelle felt much like one of the many art pieces beneath his scrutiny or a frog being dissected. _Right, those to totally fit together!_ She felt like an idiot to be honest. He couldn't be the one she'd been writing to what were the _odds_!? Then again the universe did often delight in proving her wrong.  
"Yes," Mycroft finally replied slowly, tucking his hands into his pockets, "Do I-" he stopped, mouth still open only a small fraction as comprehension seemed to dawn on him, "Isabelle." He didn't ask. He knew. Isabelle squeaked despite herself and (quite elatedly) rushed forward to hug him, only to rethink it at the last second. He didn't like physical contact - there was no way she would ruin the moment by embracing him! Still the prospect hung over her even as she let her hands fall to her sides, a deep longing to touch him despite everything that'd happened- if only to prove that he was real.

Mycroft retreated a few steps the second she'd moved towards him, perhaps seeking the presence of his parents who were oblivious to their son's discomfort but noticed the display and smiled politely at Isabelle. "Myc, who's this? Mrs. Holmes inquired, searching her over with surprisingly intelligent blue eyes. _Mathematician_ her mind dutifully supplied. Mr. Holmes' were less deep and thoughtful but they spoke of an easygoing kindness. Mycroft hadn't specified what his dad did for a living, but then again she hadn't asked.

"This is Isabelle Long," the eldest son introduced in a horribly bland tone that furthered the ache in Isabelle's shoulders. "The girl you've been writing with? Oh, a pleasure dear!" Mrs. Holmes smiled full force. Isabelle managed to return the favor, though she was fully aware that Mycroft had pointedly stopped looking at her. "If you two want to talk for a bit, we could take your brother through the rest of the Museum and meet you at the front door," Mr. Holmes offered kindly though a touch of confusion indicated that he _might_ not have known of his son's correspondence. Mycroft looked at Isabelle with little care then replied smoothly, "There is nothing we need to discuss," he waved a dismissive hand turning wary eyes upon Sherlock who looked ready to climb a display. Isabelle stared blankly after him. After all that time writing to each other she'd have thought... No, how could he possibly care about her? The prospect of real life interaction had seemed cute at the time, but now that he'd seen her he couldn't bring himself to even look her in the eyes!  
Isabelle couldn't stop herself from entreating him anyways feeling desperate and frightened that she might lose one of her only friends, "Mycroft, no, please!" she yelped, "I want to talk. C-can we just talk?" He looked at her, entirely unimpressed, "Why?" he raised an eyebrow incredulously. A million reasons flitted through Isabelle's mind but none of them seemed to find solid ground. She floundered quite obviously for something only to eventually repeat, "I just want to talk... please," she bit her bottom lip, "There are things I w-want to say."  
Miraculously something in his gaze softened just a fraction and Mycroft sighed, running a hand across his short brown hair, "For a short time," he conceded. Sherlock looked over at that moment to frown, startlingly colorful eyes filled with reproach. Isabelle ignored him and smiled as best she could under the circumstances, "Thank you," she said sincerely, "C-could we find somewhere more private?" Hm, that sounded far too suggestive for her liking. As they walked away Isabelle thought she could hear Mr. Holmes saying a befuddled, "Have I missed something?" though she was out of range when his wife replied with a said little sigh, "I'll explain it to you when we get home."

Isabelle found a wooden bench in a room devoid of patrons, sitting down in front of a large hanging still-life. Mycroft followed suit, keeping a safe distance from her to the point of nearly falling off the opposite end. The young woman let her hands rest on her lap, staring at her palms. "I...I thought about this moment a couple hundred times," she muttered, "I thought we would meet on purpose though a-and that you'd be wearing the top hat," she smiled gently then added jokingly, "I think this is probably better because I didn't think to wear my petticoats." Mycroft merely hummed in response, not looking at her. "H-how are you, by the way?"  
"Fine." He replied, terse and to the point.  
"That's uh… good." Off to a great start. Isabelle had indeed imagined their meeting, picturing a slightly different Mycroft Holmes in his suit with his top hat and umbrella, holding a golden pocket-watch in one hand while he looked with intelligent eyes upon the populace (though she'd pictured those eyes to be green rather than dull grey). And to be honest she hadn't been _too_ far off save for the clothing. Mycroft was tall of course and had perfectly combed dark brown hair, and a truly remarkable nose- as he'd vaguely described. Isabelle couldn't for the life of her figure out what his self-defacing comments he'd made in his letters were in reference to!  
Mycroft didn't talk to her. In Isabelle's mind they would have been chatting animatedly: him using an upper class accent and about how he so loathed the people below him- the "common masses". Isabelle would have attempted her own snobbish accent for the sake of the game. Instead she was met with silence and the object of her previous friendship looked at anything _but_ her. And deep down she knew exactly why he was being so distant, besides the obvious social awkwardness they both shared. It was her fault.

"I wanted to say I was sorry," Isabelle muttered, "For uh, not writing."  
"You have no reason to apologize," he allowed a glance in her direction; "I certainly couldn't blame you for moving on."  
"But you _could_ blame me for not saying goodbye," she shot back, digging her short fingernails into the flesh of her palm. Mycroft seemed at a loss for a decent reply which she took as a reason to forge onward, "I'm sorry though, about not writing you back. Not even because I didn't say goodbye. I would've... but I-I didn't."  
"Obviously," he snorted, "Miss Long, I feel inclined to ask where this is going."  
Isabelle frowned, "I'm apologizing-"  
"You apologized at the beginning why should that be your end game?" he countered easily, raising an eyebrow. Frustrated Isabelle turned to him, bringing up her left leg so that she sat on her slim calf, "I didn't think you could possibly be this argumentative in real life!"  
Mycroft suddenly smiled, a flash, it was there and then gone, "Why wouldn't I be? Writing to you _was_ real life after all." His words sunk beneath her skin and made her cold. "Real life…sucks."  
"Indeed it does," he looked at his fingernails, short and perfectly maintained. Isabelle's were cut with toenail clippers (all the regular clippers had gone missing for one reason or another), awkward and jagged. There lay the difference between them, she mused.

"I am sorry," Isabelle managed, "Really, _really_ sorry. And I'm sure you're going to say that I shouldn't be," she raised a hand to halt the incoming stream of denial, "But that's just stupid." he looked affronted at that but she ignored him, "I told you I wasn't going to leave and then I just...did."  
Mycroft had stopped looking at her again, his mouth opening small fractions before he managed a tight, "I'm not hurt."  
"I never said that you were."  
A beat.  
"What I mean is that you should not have to feel bad that you stopped- because I'm not hurt. I recommend you not look too deeply into the comment."  
"You should be," Isabelle leaned forwards to gain his attention, cheeks reddening, "I would be. I would have cried and wondered what I did wrong…"  
" _Did_ I do something wrong?" he smirked at her just then, allowing her another opening. Isabelle shook her head vehemently, "No! Well, not really." Oh God, she couldn't do this! Isabelle swallowed thickly, "It wasn't you at first. Then it was. And then it wasn't."  
"Now I'm confused," Mycroft hummed, just barely moving towards her- at least he seemed less likely to fall off the bench, "An odd occurrence as I'm sure you know."

The tables had somehow turned on them. Isabelle would have found that amusing if she weren't burdened by a sudden strong wave of emotion that she needed to release but _really_ didn't want to. Her hands formed fists atop her slim thighs and behind her eyes burned, "Yeah, I know," she exhaled. Mycroft frowned, "Isabelle-" he began, only to be cut off.  
"You know I c-couldn't bring myself to do anything after she died. I mean, I could eat and sleep and stuff like that but I couldn't... cope," she sniffled, hot tears burning behind her eyes.  
"Your mother." Mycroft had turned a delicate shade of pink at the first sign of tears, his eyes wide and fearful. In spite of that he managed to move a little bit closer to her. Isabelle took that opportunity (and were she thinking about it she would have felt terrible for putting him in that situation) to press her forehead against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Mycroft was soft and warm through his layers and he smelled vaguely of cleaning supplies and peppermint candies which she found oddly soothing. He didn't move to put a hand on her back or say anything to comfort her- but he also didn't attempt to move away either which might be considered a win. "I'm such an idiot!" she sobbed, "I th-thought everything would be alright but nothing is ever- _ever_ alright!"  
"Uh," was all Mycroft said for a good three minutes filled with Isabelle's tears, "What you're feeling is common but not true. Alright is subjective for instance: _we_ could _be_ alright if you want us to be." His words settled inside of her like warm honey. Isabelle pulled back and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve which disgusted her bench companion, "You mean that?" she sniffled. Later she would find the whole ordeal entirely embarrassing, but she was commonly embarrassment to her surviving family so really it was nothing new. "Of course I mean it," Mycroft scoffed, swiping a hand casually across his damp shoulder, "What reason would I have to lie?"

"I... Thank you."

It took some time for Isabelle to come free of her grief, Mycroft offering as many comforting phrases as he dared without sounding emotionally involved. Isabelle sighed one last time before allowing a happy smile to grace her features, there was always a high after a low. "So I never asked, what are you doing here? Uh, in London I mean," she turned enough so that she faced him directly, their knees just barely touching. He didn't object, only swallowed thickly and replied, "I had an important interview to attend and my family decided to come with me in some form of vacation just to make my life harder," he huffed. Isabelle's smile turned into a grin, "And you dutifully agreed?" she couldn't help but mock him just a little. He narrowed his eyes at her, "Precisely."  
Ug. Isabelle remembered staring at the first part of his letters, frowning at the word "duty" as though it would come off the page and attack her. It suggested to her any moment she spent with her mother in the hospital was purely out of duty and not love, something she had to do rather than wanted. That Mycroft might feel like that was a good excuse for her to stop and run away. What kind of friend would only care for her because he felt he had to? But then, she thought that someone like that would be truly marvelous to be around. They needed to be there for you. Conflicting opinions had her silent for longer than necessary wherein Mycroft took it upon himself to stare at her.

Isabelle blinked, "Sorry, thinking," she cleared her throat. "Do you zone out like that often?" he crossed one long leg over the other in one casual movement that very nearly knocked him over. "Not often," she objected, "Just sometimes. It's better than thinking aloud, isn't it?"  
Mycroft hummed, "Tell that to my brother," he quirked his mouth into a tight smile filled with subtext, it was shame Isabelle couldn't read it without her magical subtext glasses. "I didn't even talk to your brother and already I understand why you're having so much trouble," she told him. Mycroft sniffed disdainfully, "I was hoping you wouldn't be sucked in by his charm," he choked on the word. Isabelle snorted, "I'm not that gullible. Probably. Maybe," she laughed which -as she was led to believe- sounded like a donkey mixed with a choking elephant. Mycroft's smile grew (how odd) until he found purchase to join her with his own oddly breathy and far more toned down laughter.

It was of course at that moment Isabelle's bubble had to be burst.

Gloria Long approached looking far more annoyed than she had before, her own narrow shoulders tensed. Mycroft's knee immediately pulled away from Isabelle's and he placed room between them again, his grey eyes turning upon her sister. "Izzy come on we need to go. Leave your boyfriend and let's go," distaste crossed her features as she looked over Mycroft. Upon further inspection the same could be said for him though. Isabelle hesitated to ask, "Did-did you get the job?" which earned her a death glare, "What do you think? They probably saw you with me and decided anyone related to you must be an idiot," Isabelle cringed at those words but allowed them to pass over her, seeing the wrought despair that briefly passed over her sibling's face. They needed that money. If Isabelle weren't so bloody useless...!  
"I see, and your lack of employment couldn't possibly be out of your own failings because-?" Mycroft interjected, standing to his full height. Gloria was short and skinny; standing next to him she appeared even smaller. That didn't make her any less formidable though. "Because I'm not an idiot like Izzy, but then again no one is."  
" _Isabelle_ is hardly stupid either, my point is already proven by your insistence towards the contrary," Mycroft smirked. Isabelle couldn't help but blush at the firmness he put behind using her full name. Still, the argument would only end badly and the last thing she needed was for Gloria to be more upset! "Mycroft," she placed a hand on his arm which caused him to turn surprised eyes on her, "I need to go," her heart felt squeezed. He hesitated then nodded, "Of course," he shrugged off her hand and stepped back.

"Come on," Gloria ushered her sister towards the door. Isabelle cast a glance back at Mycroft who waved with one hand in a very "I don't care" sort of gesture. She cared though, she cared a great deal. Then a thought struck her and she knew she had to go through with it. Isabelle slid her backpack quickly off her shoulders and unzipped the top. She rooted through the junk, paper, pencils, an old history book that she'd not yet read, a candy wrapper, and an empty plastic container she'd once held juice in- until she found what she was looking for. "Wait!" she called after Mycroft who had already begun to walk away and rushed towards him. He stopped and turned, "Ye-es?" Isabelle held out a sealed envelope with his address on it, "I wrote you a letter; I figured that I might send it someday but I guess this is better..."  
Mycroft hesitated to take it as though it might burn him though eventually pale fingers connected with similarly pale paper. He pursed his lips as if making his own difficult decision then leaned towards her and placed a gentle kiss against her thin cheek, "Goodbye Isabelle. I will be returning to London on the fifteenth for a follow up interview." He didn't suggest that they meet up again, though Isabelle assumed that was what he meant. She nodded, "Goodbye." With that they parted ways, Gloria uttering a rude, "Pompous arse," towards Mycroft's retreating figure.

Isabelle had no idea if he would write her back. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't. And whether they would actually see each other was an even harder question to answer. She would just have to wait and see.

* * *

Mycroft's return home pulled a sigh of abject relief from his lungs. The entire time he'd longed for his own bed and his desk, and the comfortable old chair in front of the fireplace where he could read for hours on end with a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the side table waiting to be consumed. Surely a three day visit to London had been an enjoyable enough experience and he wouldn't hesitate to go back again. The entirely unexpected ending where upon a whim Mr. Holmes had decided to visit the Museum and they'd come across Isabelle Long- that, he decided, was a mixed bag.

The eldest Holmes brother wearily climbed the stairs and found his bedroom, moving aside the "Knock Before Entry" sign so that he could properly turn the doorknob. His room, completely empty and organized, greeted him like a warm hug (which he decided weren't the worst thing in the world-though he placed them high on his list of annoyances beneath rubbery bacon). Mycroft stepped inside and closed the door behind him, turning to his desk which he'd had his father shove into a corner. With one smooth motion he removed the envelope from his rear pocket, a crease formed in the middle where he'd folded it to make it fit. With a put upon sigh Mycroft settled into his chair, using a letter opener to open it. He didn't dare think about the other letters which he'd kept within the lowermost drawer of his desk, several times wondering if he should have just thrown them out in a less than comical manner. He set aside the letter opener and pulled a collection of notebook paper (torn quickly from the book, she didn't even bother to pull off all the little tabs) free. Something made him stop to take in Isabelle's sloppy handwriting, her pen was dry and the ink faded in a few places- gone over to excess when she attempted to fill the gaps and leaving a few accidental holes in the parchment.

Finally he began to read:

"Dear Mycroft,

I didn't eat your letters, I didn't put them in a bottle rocket, and I didn't bury them. In fact they are sitting in a box underneath my bed along with all the others. Sorry to disappoint you.

To tell the truth? I'm sorry I didn't write you back so much sooner. Really sorry, I mean it! A lot happened to me all at once and I was overwhelmed I guess.

See, my mum died. -And I spent all my time mourning her and trying to get myself together, you know? Maybe you don't. But I'm sure you'd try to understand it- you're like that (and no, I'm not trying to butter you up). She was one of my only friends which sounds ridiculous but it's true. She gave me advice, helped me with projects, laughed at my jokes… Anyways I could come up with a million excuses for not writing you back, but none of them would make too much sense. They don't. Because if there was anything I should have done it was to write to you about what happened! Like I said in earlier letters you're sympathy means more to me than...anyone's! So, I'm sorry for that. The problem is that I _did_ come up with so many stupid excuses as to why I _shouldn't_ write you. Why would I write to a person that thought that love was stupid and pointless?! Wouldn't that only make things worse? I've finally come to the conclusion that that isn't true and I was just being silly. I've always been silly, ridiculous, stupid... but I'm feeling much better now. (haha)

Do you bake often? I mean there must have been a reason for you to take notes of what your mother was doing. I haven't cooked a day in my life except for that one time I made a burrito in the microwave. Yeah, it wasn't great. Anyways, I think it's sweet that you tried to talk to her about me. It makes me feel so much more guilty about abandoning you... Oh it just hit me- You must feel like I abandoned you! I hope you don't mind that this letter is just one steady stream of whatever comes to my mind first. I'm sorry I made your mother touch your shoulder (rolls eyes) I personally would have found it comforting- but hey, everyone's different.

Do you believe that I used you? That lied to you? I don't know, maybe I did. But if I send this letter to you would that change? I want us to be friends Mycroft, I want us to go back to what we were- but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to write me after this. I could kick myself for lying to you like that. I promise it wasn't a lie at the time I guess it was just a promise I thought I could keep only to realize everything was fighting against me.

To answer all the questions you asked in your other letters:

1- You know, I have no idea. I've never idolized anyone from history so I hadn't thought about it. I probably should.

2-Not writing you back immediately? Um, letting my boyfriend slip through my fingers while my mum was in the hospital? Eating that microwave burrito? Oh so many things. I deeply regret not talking to my dad more, even though I was only about five years old when he died.

3- After all that's happened I would kill to listen to your ramblings and learn all about your infuriating superiority complex! (that's a thing right? If it isn't, it is now with you around haha) That's how desperate I am, I actually missed the "I'm so much smarter than everyone" parts of your letters.

4- I would turn into a bird and just...fly.

5- I've never seen a ballet, opera, or a play! Have you? I was never interested I guess, plus we've been er- "busy" as of late. Maybe someday I will and I'll realize just what I'm missing, but until then...nope.

So that's all. I would have replied to your first letter but I kind of wanted to start over. Make something new, talk about anything and everything we haven't discussed before! And like I said, if you don't want to than I'll just forget it. I deserve it. But I hope you will because I miss having someone to write to, someone I can tell things because I am so lonely. I'm not telling you what to do but I recommend taking this letter and making a cootie-catcher (Look it up) with it, you're probably better off.

Anyways, I've said all I had to say I guess. I miss you, and I'm sorry, and all that. Please write back soon!

Yours truly, Isabelle Lillian Long"

Mycroft let the paper slip from his fingers and fall to the surface of his desk, an inexplicable smile on his face. Of course he couldn't write her back. It…it would only lead to more disappointment. He _had_ of course been disappointed to the point of upset (but not hurt thank you very much). How could he go back to their correspondence as though nothing had happened? With the promise of more discomfort and even eventual heartbreak (of all things) how could he do something so patently _stupid?!  
_ Mycroft sighed to himself, collecting both paper and pen into his hands and setting aside Isabelle's letter to provide space. He thought for a moment then sloppily sketched out a picture of a couple bedecked in Victorian garb, but decidedly scrapped it. There was no chance he could escape it. Mycroft Holmes was horrifically sentimental. He could only hope that time might change that fact. With a sigh he collected another blank page, thought for a moment, and began to write.

"Dear Isabelle Long

I have decided after much deliberation (look it up) to write you back. I don't know if I will be able to continue this for very long, but I endeavor as I always do. If the prospect of my sudden disappearance troubles you I highly recommend you take this letter, put it in a bottle, and send it out to sea."

 _Fin._

* * *

 **This took way longer than I expected it too. Even though I planned to make it long and maybe a bit wordy, SHEESH!**

 **\- Why a museum? I think this was influenced by my trip to Chicago (never again *shudder* the city is not for me) to see a Van Gogh exhibit with family and friends.  
** **-Why aren't they adults? Because I think Mycroft would have completely shut Isabelle out if he were an adult. *Shrug* I didn't want too much time to pass, I think he's about nineteen and Isabelle seventeen? Not sure. I'm lazy.  
-Why did Mycroft only kiss her on the cheek dangit?! Because I'm a jerk. I couldn't fit it in without it feeling out of character Lol, as much as I wanted to.**

 **Anyways, I hope the interaction was good enough. I wanted humor and angst to mix, not sure it worked.**

 **A big thanks to: Aubrey Cortez, Red (Guest), Siresin, Losthompson, TheAsylumEscapee, TwoHeartedMarauder, Fan Gals, and lastly (but not leastly), theskylarksings- for leaving reviews! I especially love theskylarksings review which they put in the form of a letter to Mycroft. It totally made my day!** **  
**

 **Please leave one last review, even if it's to tell me that this last chapter stinks. Just tell me why it stinks, ok? XD**


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